


Fires of Stromboli

by justsare, PhryneFicathon



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Post Season 3, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsare/pseuds/justsare, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: Jack and Phryne's return to Australia is delayed by a volcanic eruption in Sicily





	Fires of Stromboli

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurora_australis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/gifts).



> I may have played with history a little, as I'm not sure the timeline fits. Stromboli erupted on 11 September, 1930. There also weren't any warning earthquakes that day; the first signs of eruption were ash emissions that morning. The eruption lasted less than a day, and there were six fatalities. There was probably a hotel within safe distance (on another island) in which our heroes might conceivably have holed up to wait it out. --justsare

 

"Except for the people who were there that one day they discovered the polio vaccine, being part of history is rarely a good idea. History is one war after another with a bunch of murders and natural disasters in between."

\--Sarah Vowell

 

The sky was on fire. The earth had been trembling for hours, and Jack had repeatedly discouraged Phryne’s insistence that they leave Sicily early. Now the sky was on fire and he wished they had taken flight when she first suggested it. They watched from their hotel suite, windows tightly closed against the ash in the air. Jack cradled Phryne against his chest as they stood in silence.

The sky was on fire. Jack was reminded unpleasantly of the war; the smell of Phryne’s French perfume was alternately comforting him and setting him on edge. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the lava flowing into the sea; when the sight was obscured by the ashfall, he sighed heavily and buried his face in Phryne’s neck. Her hands were on his arms as they rested protectively around her; her head was leaning back against his chest.

The sky was on fire, but he couldn’t see it anymore for the ash, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in. This intimacy was still new to him, even after all the long weeks in London and the weeks since their departure, as they slowly made their way back to Melbourne. Jack was torn; he missed his home, his job, his books, but he was dreading the day he and Phryne had to go their separate ways.

Jack opened his eyes and looked out the window again; nothing had changed. He pressed a kiss to Phryne’s neck, letting his teeth scrape gently across her skin. He felt her body react, the subtle change in the way she rested against him. Her breath caught in a faint gasp, and he let his teeth press more insistently against her flesh, feeling her shudder. She shifted, pressing back into him, and he groaned softly into her neck as her ass nestled against him. He held her more tightly, his teeth gliding along the ridge of the tendon there. Her breathing sped up, in time with his, and his arms around her tightened further, holding her against him. He ground against her ass, and she pressed back into him.

Jack edged Phryne closer to the closed window; until her knees were pressed to the wall and the sill was against her thighs. Caught there, she ground back against him, moaning as his teeth continued to tease her neck. His hands slid down her body, resting flat against her hips and holding her still, then sliding down, rucking her dress up until he had to pull away enough to let the layers of fabric slide between them. When he’d raised it high enough that her knickers were completely exposed, he pulled her back into him, feeling the silk slide against his wool trousers.

The sky was on fire, but so was Jack, and he pressed himself insistently against her ass, so that she was bracing herself against the window frame to keep from being pressed up against the glass. Jack slid a hand into her knickers and let his fingers glide through the wetness there. With an impatient snarl against her neck, he tore Phryne’s knickers to the side and she gasped as he yanked his trousers open. He tore his mouth from her skin. “Do you have-“ he gasped, and she nodded frantically, leaning forward away from him to give him better access as he dragged his cock from his trousers and pressed into her, the awkwardness of the angle slowing him only slightly as he bent his knees to make it right. With a grunt he sheathed himself inside her, and she was almost pressed against the window glass.

Ash swirled in the crackling air outside the window, and Phryne closed her eyes as Jack plunged his cock inside her again, and again. The sky was on fire, but so were they, Jack’s left hand cupping her hip, his right sliding back into her knickers to stroke her as he fucked her, tension and fear sending him into a frenzy as he took her with unaccustomed force.

The sky was on fire, and Jack was about to explode. He pulled Phryne roughly back against him, his mouth finding her neck again, latching on with lips and teeth and hearing her shriek in response. He rubbed insistently at her clitoris, and her hips bucked against him. His self control was spiraling away from him and he was gritting his teeth against her flesh, trying to hang on, to make her come first.

The sky was on fire, and Phryne surrendered at last, coming with a wail that rattled the window panes and made Jack fuck her harder, stepping back from the window while simultaneously pushing her forward so that she was almost bent double, her hands bracing themselves on the windowsill as he came with a roar, burying himself to the hilt and staying there until his knees nearly buckled beneath him, and then he pulled shakily away from her, sitting unceremoniously down onto the floor.

Phryne straightened and took a deep breath, looking out the window at the ash that swirled still, and the glow of the sky beyond, before turning back into the room and smiling fondly down at the Inspector in a heap on the floor.

She left him there for the moment, stepping into the bathroom to clean herself up, readjusting her clothing with practiced ease, and when she re-emerged into the bedroom found that he’d leaned back against the footboard of the bed. His handkerchief lay crumpled beside him, and his eyes were closed. Outside of the windows, all Phryne could see was gray.

“Tea, darling, or whiskey?” Phryne’s voice was husky in the quiet room. Jack mumbled back noncommittally and Phryne swung open the door between the bedroom and the little parlour. Before she had taken a single step, however, the smile fell from her lips as she froze in the doorway. Her quiet “oh, dear,” made Jack look up.

“What is it?”

Phryne’s eyes swept the blood-soaked body of the chambermaid as she tried to remember whether there had been any screaming...besides her own. “It looks like there’s been a murder.”


End file.
